Cyril Kerularios was a prominent Byzantine nobleman who currently acted as the leader of the hawkish faction within the Byzantine court. After the untimely death of the second Prince Decentius Palaiologos, he and his allies lost a significant amount of power and influence within the Empire's politics.
What was supposed to be the resurrection of a glorious, and expansionist Roman Empire instead devolved into a pacifistic if not outright cowardly Greek State led by the First Prince Quintus Palaiologos and his dove backers.
It was precisely because of this that the eastern successor of the ancient Romans now found themselves in the most precarious position since the fall of Rome nearly one thousand years prior. With the ever decreasing popularity of the Palaiologos dynasty and the disastrous consequences of their actions. Cyril had been working tirelessly in the background to see the royal bloodline dethroned, and instead replaced with his own dynasty.
Currently, the man sat back in his noble villa and watched as the city of Constantinople burned in the flames of revolution. He had a sneer of disdain on his face as he sipped from a glass of wine. Behind him was a young woman who was his household slave. She approached the man and rubbed his back, knowing that his plans were finally coming to fruition.
"Dominus, the city burns, and soon you will rise as the new emperor! All is going as planned."
However, when the man heard these words, he instantly groaned in regret. Recent intelligence from the rioters reported the German troops stationed at the embassy were intervening in his schemes by deploying a poisonous mist. He could not help but curl his fists in rage as he thought about those up jumped barbarians getting involved in this foreign affair.
"Everything would be going to plan if those filthy barbarians hadn't interfered. The rioters are dispersing, and my agents, who act as instigators, are being arrested. If something is not done soon, I fear that my years of planning will have been for nothing. I have no choice but to siege the German Embassy. With the Kaiser's wife and children held as my hostages, the German troops would not dare to intervene any longer."
When the young slave heard these words, a hint of malice formed in her eyes. As a result, she reached into her waistband and pulled out a small folding knife, which she had hidden away in her person. Without the conspirator even realizing it, his slave had turned against him. The woman silently caressed the back of Cyril's neck with one hand, and whispered into his ears something sinister.
"So you have chosen death?"
Before the man could even react to this threat, the steel blade slid across his neck, and cut open his carotid arteries. Spilling blood across the windowsill. The man instantly lost the strength in his body as the blood flowed out of his body like a river and collapsed to the floor with shock and terror in his eyes.
Cyril struggled to call out his slave's name, but it was no use. He could not speak now that his throat was cut open. As the man gurgled on his own blood, a sadistic smile formed on his slave's pretty face as she grabbed hold of the man's gilded chalice and drank the wine that was now mixed with his blood.
"Prince Alexandros sends his regards..."
With this said, the light faded from the Byzantine nobleman's eyes as he fell to the ground, truly and utterly dead.
On the other side of the city, an intelligence officer approached the young Prince Alexandros Palaiologos who was in the act of coordinating the attempt to restore order to the Byzantine Capital from the safety of the German Embassy.
Unlike the Byzantine Palace, the embassy was designed from the ground up as a covert fortress. Even if Cyril had managed to mobilize his forces to attack the building, it would have ended in a brutal slaughter of his agents. The Intelligence officer had a list of reports in her hand from her field agents embedded in the city, which she quickly spoke about.
"Your highness, as you have anticipated, it would appear that the majority of the politicians within both the hawk and dove factions are guilty of conspiring against the Palaiologos Dynasty. I have ordered the agents your father has long since embedded in their households to eliminate them.
As far as their deaths are concerned, you won't have to worry about being held responsible. I have given the command to our agents to raid their villas to make it look like an act of murder done by the rioters. By the end of this ordeal, only those noble households who support your claim to the throne will have survived."
The boy prince stared coldly out the window and gazed at the burning city in the background. It was only after he had taken control of the German forces within the city of Constantinople did he realize the depths of his father's preparations.
An entire network of spies and assassins was hidden in the household of every Byzantine Noble family. A single order from the von Kufstein dynasty was all that was needed to eliminate those who opposed the Kaiser's vision. All Alexandros needed to do was take advantage of this hidden network, and eliminate his rivals.
The boy may be young, but he had learned enough from his father's tutelage over the years to know when the best time to strike was and that time was now. Thus, there was not even the slightest hint of emotion on the Prince's youthful face as he ordered the death of hundreds of people with a single command.
"I have to admit, my father's preparations for my ascension to the throne are beyond anything I could have anticipated. It would appear that he had never trusted Palladius to actually live up to his end of the bargain, and had prepared these assassins so that the moment my royal grandfather died, all backers of his other heirs would be eliminated, leaving the crown in my hands.
Though my royal grandfather has enough wisdom to name me his successor, I can't dare to allow the chance that my uncles will betray me in a bid for power. For the sake of my mother's mental health, I will permit them to live, but any semblance of political authority they once had is now gone forever. Even if those fools were to attempt to rally others to their claims, there is now nobody left to support them. Well played father..."
The intelligence officer shuddered in silence. She had known about the fail-safes Berengar had established long ago. In fact, her job as an agent under the purview of the German Embassy was to coordinate these efforts.
However, the woman had never expected that a boy as young as ten would be the one to enact these orders. Let alone do so without a single regard for the lives that he had ended with a simple command.
The progeny of the Kaiser were truly frightening. Born and raised by their father to be benevolent rulers, but those who would do whatever was necessary to ensure the survival of their dynasty and civilization.
Alexandros, Ghazi, and Berengar's other potential heirs had all been raised to follow a Machiavellian philosophy of rulership. One mixed with a sense of noblesse oblige. In other words, they were trained to do whatever was necessary to maintain power, but to use that power for the benefit of their people.
It was because of this that the young Prince was so easily able to give such a frightening order to his father's agents, knowing that he would be condemning hundreds of people to death, some of them innocent, all for the sake of maintaining control over his future throne.
Thus, while the city of Constantinople burned from civil unrest, all while a barbarian horde gathered outside its gates. Alexandros Palaiologos had ruthlessly cemented his future as the next ruler of the Byzantine Empire, and nobody was any the wiser.
